


The Mills Family

by FrankenSpine



Series: Scarytales [10]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Cora isn't a bitch, Creepy, Eccentric neighbors, F/F, F/M, Family Fluff, Fun, Gothic, Inspired by Addams Family, Judgment, Macabre, Multi, Non-Conformity, Romance, Spooky, Weirdness, outcasts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2020-12-14 23:30:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21024029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrankenSpine/pseuds/FrankenSpine
Summary: Emma Swan moves to the sleepy town of Storybrooke, Maine, right next to some rather 'eccentric' neighbors who seem to live and breathe all things macabre.





	1. Neighbors

**Author's Note:**

> I just saw the new Addams Family movie and while it wasn't perfect, I still thoroughly enjoyed it. It made me feel nostalgic (especially when the new movie paid a direct homage to the original TV series from the 60s!!!) so I've been re-watching the original series and got inspired to make an Addams-based SQ fic. It was inevitable, really. I hope you like it.

Emma was amazed at how cheap her new home was, considering just how nice it was, both inside and out. It looked no more than five years old. It appeared to be in perfect condition, and in a good, quiet neighborhood. What she failed to realize was the reason for the low price— but then, of course, she learned the truth upon her arrival.

She’d just moved from the bustling city of Boston to the little town of Storybrooke, Maine. The city was too hectic and too loud. Storybrooke was like a dream come true. A fairytale, even. At least, that was what she believed before she met her neighbors.

Right away, she noticed that the house next door looked abandoned, which she supposed was why her house was so cheap, but then as she was bringing all of her things in from the car, she spotted a boy standing on the sidewalk, watching her intently.

The boy couldn’t have been older than ten. He was holding something in his clasped hands, but Emma wasn’t sure what it was until he opened his hands to reveal a disgustingly-large, hair tarantula. Emma’s heart almost stopped when she saw it, and her eyes just about burst from their sockets.

“This is Winston,” said the boy, seemingly-unaware of Emma’s horror, “I named him after Winston Churchill. You wanna pet him?”

“Um, no thanks.”

The boy shrugged, but offered a friendly smile. “Alright, well, my name’s Henry, by the way. What’s yours?”

“I— I’m Emma. Emma Swan.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” said Henry, “I think my mother would like you. She’s always loved swans. She says they’re as dangerous as they are beautiful.”

Emma was taken aback by this. “Um, right,” she said slowly, “Well, I’ve got to finish packing.”

“Alright. I’ll see you later, Emma.”

“Sure thing,” Emma said unconvincingly.

She went about her business, carrying the heavy boxes inside before she found herself face to face with yet another one of the creepy neighbors. This time it was a stubble-faced man with a top hat and a hideous scar around his neck. He had icy blue eyes and a mop of brown hair that reached his shoulders.

“Afternoon, Madame,” he said with a smile, “Henry tells me you’re moving in.”

“Uh, yeah,” Emma said, feeling mildly uncomfortable.

“I’m Jefferson, his favorite uncle— but don’t tell Killian that.”

“Killian?”

“My brother,” Jefferson clarified, “He gets jealous a lot and he’s quite, shall we say, _competitive.”_

Emma just stared at him for a moment. _“Right._ Um, it’s been nice meeting you, but I’ve really got to finish unpacking.”

“Mind if I help? You look like you could use a hand.”

“That’s okay. I’ve got it.”

“Are you sure? I’d be more than happy to help you out.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Emma said, a bit more firmly this time, “I’m sure you have better things to do.”

“Not particularly,” said Jefferson, “I was just filing the fence.”

“Cool, I— wait, _what?” _

Jefferson smiled. “The wrought-iron fence,” he said, “The spikes get a bit dull from time to time and Regina prefers them extra-sharp.”

“Is Regina your wife?”

Jefferson laughed. “Hades, no! She’s my sister, and the head of the household.”

“Oh? That’s cool, I guess. Well, it was nice meeting you, Jefferson.”

“Likewise.”

* * *

That same night, once Emma had all of her things inside, she decided to unpack gradually for the next week or so. Right now, she just wanted to find a place to eat and maybe drink a little. As if on cue, the doorbell rang.

Emma reluctantly went to the door and peered through the peephole. There stood the most beautiful woman she had ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on. The woman had dark hair and eyes, and donned a simple yet elegant black dress that hugged all the right places. As she opened the door, Emma was met with a warm smile from the brunette.

“Good evening,” the woman said, “I’m Regina Mills. I’ve been told you are our new neighbor, and was wondering if you wanted to join us for dinner.”

“Really? Um, sure. Should I bring anything?”

Regina shook her head. “Don’t worry about that, dear. We will have more than enough food. My family is rather large, you see, so there will be plenty to go around.”

“Thanks. I’m Emma, by the way.”

Extending her hand to Regina, Emma was shocked when she realized just how cold the brunette’s skin was. It was like shaking hands with a corpse.

Regina seemed oblivious to Emma’s discomfort, but thankfully, she pulled her hand away before the unease grew too heavy for her new neighbor.

“It is so nice to meet you, Emma. Dinner begins in an hour. Do try to be late.”

“Wait, you _want_ me to be late?”

Regina smiled. “Better late than never,” she beamed.

“Uh, right,” Emma said, mildly taken aback as Regina turned and headed back towards the creepy manor next door.

* * *

Later, when Emma arrived at the Mills’ front door, she found that the porch creaked and the doorbell sounded like the deafening horn of a ship. It was a pale, sunken-eyed man who answered the door. With his white skin and hair, he looked like one of the undead. The thousand-yard stare certainly didn’t help.

“You rang?”

“Yes, um, Regina invited me over for dinner.”

“Ah, you must be Emma,” said the man, “I’m Victor. Victor Frankenstein.”

Emma arched an eyebrow. “For real? Like _Mary Shelley’s_ Frankenstein?”

Victor grimaced. “Yes, well, it isn’t exactly the most flattering biography.”

Emma wondered if there was a punchline, but none came, and she suspected that the man was either insane or a liar (or more than likely, _both_). Still, he invited her inside, and as she stepped through the door, Emma’s eyes grew wide.

The walls were covered in old, faded wallpaper that had long-since begun to peel, the paint on the window sills was chipping away, and all the pictures and paintings were crooked. She saw very few mirrors, but they were all cracked and resembled spider webs— that was when she noticed there really _were_ spider webs on the walls and furniture. The pictures were what truly left Emma speechless. They were of all sorts of strange beings and creatures, men with two heads, and other oddities.

Victor seemed to noticed where Emma was staring and approached her, gesturing to the painting of the giraffe in a business suit. “That’s an old friend of mine,” he said, “We go way back. He hasn’t been able to call, though. You see, he’s not very good with phones.”

“Is it because he’s a _giraffe?”_ Emma asked incredulously.

Victor laughed. “No, he’s just old-fashioned, and he's got really terrible arthritis.”

“You’ve got to be joking.”

_ “Emma, arthritis is no laughing matter,”_ came a voice. It was Jefferson, walking into the foyer from what looked like the living room. He smiled and tipped his hat to her. “It’s so nice of you to join us,” he said, “I hope you like chimera.”

_“Chimera?_ You mean like, from mythology?”

“It’s an old family recipe,” said Jefferson, “No one makes it quite like Regina.”

A short while later, everyone was seated at the table, eyeing Emma curiously. An older brunette with pursed lips seemed to be sizing her up, which made her mildly uncomfortable. “So, Miss Swan. May I call you that?”

“Emma is fine.”

“Very well, _Emma,”_ said the old woman, “What is it that you do for a living?”

“I was a bail-bondsman— err, bonds_person—_ back in Boston,” Emma explained, “Right now I’m still looking for a job.”

“May I ask why you decided to come all the way to Storybrooke?”

“It just seemed quiet. Peaceful,” said Emma, “You know, someplace safe and secure.”

“Well, it’s certainly that,” said the woman, “My name is Cora, by the way. I’m Regina’s mother.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Emma told her.

Cora smiled. There was a peculiar gleam in her eyes. “Likewise.”

Regina smiled as she watched this interaction, but as she looked around, she couldn’t help but frown a little. “Where are Killian and Ruby?”

“Probably out playing in the cemetery again,” Jefferson said, shaking his head in disapproval, “Let’s not wait on them. They knew when dinner was. It’s on them for being late.”

“I second that,” said Victor.

As they all dug into the bizarre-looking meal Regina had set out, Emma was a bit reluctant to taste it. She wasn’t quite sure what she was looking at.

“What’s the matter, Emma?” Henry asked her, “Don’t you like chimera?”

“Um, I’ve never actually had it,” she said.

Everyone was taken aback by this revelation.

“Well, there’s a first time for everything,” said Regina, “It’s part lion, part goat, and part serpent.”

“Oh, so it’s like turducken, then? Cool.”

The rest of the group seemed confused, but said nothing as they piled food onto their plates and filled their cups with, well, Emma wasn’t quite sure. Whatever it was, it was in a black bottle.

Cora seemed to notice her staring at it and slid it towards her. “Would you like some, Emma?”

“I’m guessing it’s wine?”

Cora laughed. “No, dear. It’s cyanide.”

Emma felt the color drain from her face.

Regina saw this and looked at her in concern. “Emma? Are you not feeling well?”

“I’m fine,” Emma lied, “Just a little under the weather.” She swiftly changed the subject. “Um, I noticed earlier that your porch is super creaky. You might want to have that checked out.”

“Is it too quiet?” asked Regina, “I just had the creak put in last week.”

Emma wasn’t sure how to respond, but thankfully, Victor did it for her.

“I can make it louder, if you want.”

“I prefer it as it is,” said Cora.

“Me too,” Henry added.

He and Cora shared a fond smile.

* * *

In the middle of dinner, the phone began to ring. It was an antique phone mounted on the wall, covered in dust and cobwebs. Jefferson excused himself from the table and got up to answer it.

_“Ahoy hoy,”_ he greeted. A smile crept its way onto his cold lips. “Ah, of course. One moment.” He turned to Regina. “It’s Rumple. He wants to speak with you.”

“Can’t it wait?”

“He claims it’s urgent.”

Regina’s eyes lit up. “Well then, I suppose that isn’t so bad.”

She took the phone from Jefferson and he returned to his place at the table.

Emma looked at him with mild interest. “Who’s Rumple?” she asked.

“My brother,” Cora said bitterly, stabbing her knife into her meat, “We haven’t spoken in years.”

Everyone looked at Regina when they heard her gasp. Her eyes were wide.

“Regina?” Cora quizzed, “Whatever is the matter? You look as though you’ve just seen a ghost!”

“If only, Mother,” said Regina, “Rumple is getting married in a month, and he says he’s coming here to introduce us to his fiancée.”

“Who is she?”

“He said her name was Belle.”

“Oh, how _exciting,”_ Victor said sarcastically.

“Come now, Vic,” said Jefferson, “Surely you remember how happy you were when you and Ruby got engaged.”

“Yes, well, why anyone would want to marry someone like _Rumple_ is beyond me,” Victor countered.

Jefferson laughed. “Coming from you? That’s saying a lot.”

_ “Exactly.”_

* * *

It wasn’t much longer before it began to rain. The raindrops pounded against the foggy glass and lightning struck in the distance, piercing the earth in a blinding flash of fury. Thunder roared in the dark sky. Just moments later, the lights started to flicker before going out completely. Thankfully, there were candles on the table, casting everyone’s faces in an eerie orange glow.

“I’ve got a generator in my garage,” said Emma, “You can borrow it, if you want.”

“Don’t worry about it,” said Victor, “I’ve got this.” He pulled a lightbulb from seemingly out of nowhere and put it in his mouth. It lit up like Christmas. He seemed amused when he saw the shock on Emma’s face.

“Bet you’ve never seen that before, huh?” asked Jefferson.

“No,” Emma said quietly, “Can’t say I have.”

“Vic’s a jack of all trades.”

“Yeah,” Henry piped up, “He’s ten-thousand volts!”

_“…Right.” _

Eventually, Emma headed home, leaving the Mills Family to do— _whatever it was that they did._

“What have I gotten myself into?” she muttered.

The second Emma walked out the door, Victor took the lightbulb out of his mouth and the dining room was cast into darkness once more.

“Well, she’s a weird one, isn’t she?”

The others all nodded, muttering quietly in agreement, save for Regina. She stared out the window at the pouring rain and found herself wishing to have Emma over again sometime— perhaps when no one else was home.

Not long after that, the back door opened and in walked Killian and Ruby, both soaking wet and dripping water onto the floor. They each tracked mud onto the floor in their wake. The water on their clothes and faces gleamed brightly in the pale moonlight.

“Where in _Hades_ have you two been?” Cora demanded.

The pair laughed. _“Doing inventory,”_ they said in unison.

“Called it,” said Jefferson, “Was anyone missing?”

“Just some of the more distant relatives,” said Ruby.

Jefferson looked surprised. “You mean the Add—”

Cora was quick to shush him. “No!” she said firmly, “We don’t say _that name_ in this house.”

“Right. Sorry, Mother.”


	2. Mother's Intuition

Emma was awoken in the middle of the night by a horrible, blood-curdling scream. Adrenaline kicked in swiftly and she rushed to the window, feeling mortified and dreading what she might find. She frowned in concern as well as confusion when she saw what appeared to be a brunette wearing a red cape, standing up on the roof and attempting to howl at the full moon. Emma’s expression became one of annoyance as she went to look for her noise-cancelling headphones.

“No wonder the old owners moved out so quickly,” she muttered.

What she failed to realize was that Regina was watching her from behind a dark window adjacent to her own. When Emma climbed back into bed with her headphones on, the brunette next door closed the black curtains and headed downstairs.

When Regina entered the kitchen, she found her mother sitting in the darkness with a flickering candle. “Mother? What are you doing in here at this hour?”

“I was going to ask you the very same, dear,” said Cora, “You have feelings for her, don’t you?”

Regina was taken aback by this. “For who?”

Cora laughed. “Who do you think? _Emma,_ of course. I’m fairly certain she’s fond of you, as well.”

“But we’ve only just met.”

“When you’re destined to be together, time matters not, my darling.”

“Destined, you say? And how would you know a thing like that?”

A smile tugged at Cora’s painted lips. “Mother’s intuition,” she said, “and of course, a touch of magic.” She sat back in her chair. “I think you should invite her over again sometime.”

Now Regina was smiling as well. “I suppose I just might. Do you think she’ll come?”

“There is only one way to find out.”

* * *

When Emma heard a knock at the door, she feared it might be one of the kooky neighbors, and she supposed she was right, but Regina Mills didn’t seem nearly as strange as the rest of them.

“Hello, Emma,” the brunette said with a kind smile, “I was wondering if you might like to have dinner again.”

Emma tried to think of an excuse— any excuse, really— but her brain short-circuited and went blank, so she simply said, _“Sure. Sounds good.”_

Regina’s smile widened, and Emma knew in that very moment that she would do anything to make the brunette smile at her in such a way.

“Wonderful,” said Regina, “Dinner begins at seven-o’clock— and remember: _better late than never.” _

Emma couldn’t help but smile back at the woman. “Right,” she said softly, “I’ll see you then.”

Regina chuckled as she turned and made her way back towards her dismal abode. “Not if I see you first, Miss Swan.”

Emma felt her heart skip a beat when the brunette called her that. She was left stunned and speechless as she stood at the door, staring out into the distance. She wasn’t entirely sure how long she waited there, but eventually, she closed the door and went about getting ready for that night’s dinner. Admittedly, the chimera hadn’t been that bad. Just _different._

When seven-o’clock finally rolled around, Emma made sure she was five minutes late. When she arrived, she found that the porch was still creaky, the place was still covered in webs and dust, and that Regina Mills became more and more beautiful each time Emma laid eyes on her.

“Welcome, Emma. I’m so glad you could make it.”

As Emma followed Regina inside, she found the place empty. “Where’s everybody else?” she asked.

“I’m not sure, actually,” Regina told her, “I told them dinner was at seven. It’s as if they’ve all vanished into thin air. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time.”

Emma pretended not to hear that last part. “Well, should we wait?”

“Nonsense,” said Regina, “You are my guest. Help yourself to the griffin.”

Lo and behold, there was indeed a griffin on the table, perched on a silver platter with a bright red apple in its beak. Emma and Regina ended up eating alone together, making small talk. Before long, they both seemed to forget that anything or anyone else existed. They were in their own little world.

“So,” said Regina, “what do you make of Storybrooke? I trust it’s to your liking?”

“It is,” Emma told her, “Very much so. I really like the beach. I always have.”

“Well, perhaps one rainy day, we could go down and swim with the sharks.”

“Is that something you would want?” asked Emma.

“But of course. Would you rather toss grenades in the cemetery?”

“Do you do that kind of thing often?”

Regina smiled and took a sip of her drink. “Only on special occasions.”

What the two women failed to realize was that they were being watched by the rest of the family via Cora’s crystal ball. The group was in Victor's room, observing the pair ecstatically.

“You were right, Mother,” said Jefferson.

“Of course I was, darling. I always am.”

“Do you think they’ll get married?” asked Henry.

Cora smiled. “I certainly hope so,” she said, “They need each other. I can see it in their eyes. Shame they don’t know it yet.”

* * *

“Would you like some cyanide? Killian brewed it himself.”

“It’s not _really_ cyanide, is it?”

Regina sighed. “You’re right,” she said, lowering her voice, “It’s gluten-free.”

“Gluten— since when does— _never mind,”_ Emma stammered.

“Correct me if I’m wrong,” said Regina, “but you seem like more of an arsenic type of woman.”

“Water will be just fine.”

* * *

Later, Emma was helping Regina wash the dishes when she felt a hand on hers. She was taken aback by this, but pleasantly so, thinking it was Regina’s hand. When she looked, however, she was mortified to find a severed hand with stitches dangling from the stump. She gasped when its grip tightened, and she jumped back as she attempted to swat it away.

Regina turned to see what all the commotion was and frowned when she saw the sentient hand crawling around on the floor. She put her hands on her hips in disapproval.

_“Victor Frankenstein,”_ she scolded, “How many times have I told you not to play your little tricks on the guests? Not everyone is amused by your games.”

The hand scurried away towards the dark staircase nearby, leading to what Emma could only assume was the basement. She swallowed nervously as it disappeared into the shadows.

“What, uh— what just happened?”

“It was just Victor being a pest. Please excuse him. He can be such a child sometimes.”

“Does he live in the basement?”

“Laboratory, actually,” Regina said casually, “It was a dungeon before, but we had it renovated when he married Ruby.”

“Ruby?”

“My sister,” said Regina, “You would have met her at dinner last night, but she and Killian were doing inventory in the graveyard. I’m sure you heard her howling on the roof.”

“That was her? Can I ask why she was doing that?”

“She always does it during the full moon. It’s one of her favorite pastimes. I hope she didn’t disturb your sleep.”

“If it’s a monthly thing, I guess it’s not really a big deal.”

Regina smiled. “You’re too kind, Emma Swan.”

Emma was quick to return her smile. “Touché, Regina Mills.”

** _Meanwhile, down in the laboratory… _ **

Jefferson and Killian looked on in disgust as Victor sewed his hand back on.

“I don’t see why you couldn’t have just done that for me,” said Killian.

“Because, my friend, we never found your hand,” said Victor, “and besides, I’m already dead. Sometimes my body just falls apart, you know? It’s quite tiresome, having to put yourself back together.”

Killian sighed. “Forget I said anything,” he muttered.

“With pleasure,” said Victor.

Killian glared at him, but said nothing.

“So what now?” asked Jefferson, “Do you really think this will work?”

“It already has,” Cora said with a smile.


	3. Smoking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short but sweet chapter.

As time went on, Emma found herself spending more and more time at the Mills household until she was practically living there. Strangely, the other family members seemed to disappear every time she came over. She began to suspect they were up to something, but she wasn’t sure what that ‘something’ was. She didn’t want to bring it up with Regina because she didn’t want to offend the woman she’d grown so close to.

Regina was strange, for sure, but there was a certain charm to her macabre ways. What didn’t make sense was her remarkable ability to defy logic. The same went for her kooky family. One rainy afternoon, she did something that led Emma to wonder if she was entirely human.

“Emma?”

“Yes?”

“Do you mind if I smoke?”

“Not at all. Your house, your rules.”

Regina nodded and sat back comfortably in her favorite wicker chair. Rather than pulling out a cigarette or a lighter, she just sat there as smoke began rolling off her body.

Emma’s eyes widened in horror. “Regina, I think you’re on fire!”

Regina just smiled. “Why thank you, dear.”

“I— _what?_ I mean there’s smoke everywhere!”

“Darling, if you didn’t want me to smoke, you could have just said so. I understand that not everyone does it these days.”

Emma was dumbfounded. “I— I’ve never seen anyone do _that_ before.”

“Oh? Well, your family must be very health-conscious.”

Emma tensed a bit, quickly changing the subject. “Have you, um, always _smoked?”_

“Only since I was sixteen. Don’t tell Mother. I’m sure she’d have a fit.”

* * *

The next time Emma came to the house, it was late at night when the moon was full. Regina insisted she come over, and so she did. She was worried that it might be an emergency, but as she should have known, everything was perfectly normal— at least, by Regina’s definition.

Regina was lounging by the pool beneath the pale moonlight, which explained why she’d asked Emma to bring a swimsuit.

“Hello, Emma,” she said warmly, “I was hoping you would come.”

“Hi. I didn’t know you had a pool.”

“Oh yes,” said Regina, “You see, Victor constructed a panel to cover it up when it isn’t in use. He is quite _handy.” _

“Was that a pun?”

Regina smiled. “That’s open to interpretation, my dear. Why don’t you join me in the pool? It’s chilled to perfection.”

“Oh, um, I prefer warm water.”

“Don’t you worry, darling. I’ll take care of that.”

Regina climbed into the water, and the second she did, it began to boil and bubble around her. She curled her finger in a ‘come hither’ motion, offering a playful half-smirk to the stunned blonde.

Emma stepped into the pool reluctantly, but was surprised to find that it was the perfect temperature. As she sunk down into the water, she felt a warm pair of arms slip around her and she found herself staring into the hypnotic eyes of Regina Mills.

“How’s that?” Regina asked softly.

“It’s perfect,” Emma told her, _“You’re_ perfect.”

In that moment, Regina gazed at her with the utmost love and admiration, and Emma knew this was the woman of her dreams, no matter how strange or macabre.

“The feeling is mutual,” murmured Regina.

They were both silent as their eyes closed and their lips came together in a sweet kiss. It was brief, yet it felt like forever. Pleasant chills rushed up and down their spines. It was almost electric. When they pulled away, they stared at one another in pure wonder.

“That was amazing,” Emma breathed.

“That it was. Shall we do it again?”

Emma smiled. “I’d love to.”

“Very well, _querida.” _

Emma’s breath hitched in her throat. “That’s Spanish,” she rasped, “It’s beautiful. _You’re_ beautiful.”

Regina grinned. _“Muchas gracias, Em-ma.”_

Their arms hooked around each other as they shared a passionate kiss.

Cora smiled as she witnessed this from the attic. It was working. It was all so clear. Regina and Emma were the perfect match.


	4. Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Double update.

When Emma rang the doorbell, Henry answered it and smiled at her. “Hello, Emma.”

“Hey, kid,” she said, “Is your mom around?”

“She’s out in the cemetery, under her favorite tree.”

“Cool.”

Henry noticed the bouquet of black roses she was carrying. “Are those for Mother?”

“Yes,” Emma said, blushing a bit, “Do you think she’ll like them?”

“Do they have thorns?”

“Yeah.”

“Then yes, she’ll love them.”

Emma chuckled. “Awesome.”

Henry moved so Emma could come inside and he led her out back towards the cemetery. Just as he’d said, Regina was sitting under the old apple tree towards the back of the graveyard.

When Emma approached, she offered the brunette a kind smile. “Hello,” she said timidly.

“Hello, Emma,” said Regina. Her eyes lit up when she saw the black roses. “Are those for me?”

Emma nodded, grinning uncontrollably. “They sure are.”

“Oh, _querida,_ they’re lovely. I can’t possibly thank you enough.”

“I think a kiss will suffice,” said Emma.

Regina chuckled and stood up, planting a light kiss upon the blonde’s pale lips. “Is that to your liking?”

“Maybe one more will do it,” Emma teased.

Even so, Regina was more than happy to oblige, and she kissed Emma once again.

“How about now?”

“Perfect.”

Regina put the roses in a pitcher of cool water. “I’ll have to find a vase for them later,” she said, “Again, Emma, thank you. It’s been such a long time since anyone brought me flowers. How did you know I liked black roses?”

Emma smiled. “Lucky guess.”

“Lucky indeed,” said Regina, “Sit with me, Emma. Won’t you?”

“Of course.”

Emma sat on the checkered blanket next to Regina and they smiled warmly at each other.

“I truly enjoy your company, _querida._ I’m not sure if you noticed, but most people around here are a bit— shall we say— _eccentric.”_

“Oh? What do you mean?”

“Well, their houses all look the same, they seem miserable, and they’re always staring at their telephones. What could be so interesting about a telephone that leads one to stare at it for hours on end? I truly don’t understand. Sometimes I worry we may be surrounded by a cult of some sort.”

“A cult? I don’t think so. I think it’s just a millennial thing. You don’t have a cell phone?”

“A shell phone? Why yes, of course,” said Regina, “I use it to contact my old roommate, Ursula.”

“No, a _cell_ phone.”

“I didn’t realize prison cells contained telephones.”

Emma sighed and withdrew her phone from her pocket. “A cellular telephone,” she said, “Have you ever used one before?”

“No. Where is the receiver? I’ve never quite understood these things.”

“It doesn’t need a receiver.”

“Then how do you dial a number?”

“You tap the buttons on the screen.”

“How fascinating,” said Regina, “One of these days, you will have to teach me more about these _cellular telephones—_ but for now, my dear, I wish only for us to enjoy a nice picnic.”

“What all do we have here?” Emma asked, looking to the woven basket.

Regina opened it up with a smile. “I’ve prepared hemlock salad, pickled platypus eggs, aardvark sandwiches, and of course, appletinis. I wasn’t sure if you liked poison or non-poison, so I brought both.”

_ “Poison appletini?_ Is— Is that any good?”

“Oh, it’s _delicious,_ though again, I suppose it’s not very health-conscious. I know I should probably switch to non-poison, but it just isn’t the same as the real thing.”

As she reluctantly bit into her aardvark sandwich, Emma found that it wasn’t all that bad. In fact, it tasted amazing.

“Wow, Regina, this is awesome.”

“Why thank you, dear. I’m glad you like it.”

“I’ve never had aardvark before.”

“Emma Swan, you are just _full_ of surprises. You must tell me what other sorts of things you haven’t tried. It seems you’ve missed out on so much.”

“Well, I’ve never had hemlock or platypus eggs.”

“What about echidna steaks?”

“Nope.”

“Eel?”

“Never.”

“Oh, you poor dear. What _do_ you eat?”

“Burgers, fries, pizza, tacos, onion rings, donuts— oh, and root beer.”

Regina seemed shocked. “Tell me they’re at least elephant burgers.”

“No. Hamburgers. Like, from cows.”

“Oh, Emma,” Regina said, looking like she was on the verge of tears, “I swear to you, one of these days I will prepare an elephant burger, and when you try it, you will never want a—” she shuddered, “— a _hamburger_ ever again.”

“Okay,” said Emma, “I’ll take you up on that offer, _for a price.” _

“Name it.” Emma smiled. “A kiss.”

_ “Querida,”_ Regina purred, “kisses are priceless.” She pressed her lips to Emma’s, and they shared a laugh. “Especially when they come from you, my dear.”

“You’re incredible, you know that?”

“The feeling is mutual, _mi amor.”_

Emma was taken aback by this. “My love?” she whispered, “You— You love me?”

“Was that not clear?”

“I guess not,” said Emma, “It’s just that, well, no one’s ever really _loved_ _me_ before.”

“How can that be? Does your family not love you?”

Emma sighed. “I don’t have a family. I’m an orphan.”

Regina offered a look of sympathy, placing her hand over Emma’s. “We can be your family,” she rasped, “Me, Henry, and the others. Do you think you would like that?”

A smile tugged at Emma’s lips. “Yeah,” she said, “I think I just might.”


	5. Visitors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short but sweet chapter.

When the doorbell rang and made the whole house rattle, Regina expected to find Emma waiting on the porch, but instead, she found herself face to face with her estranged uncle and who she assumed was his new fiancée.

“Rumple,” she said, forcing a pleasant smile, “I wasn’t expecting you so soon.” She turned to the young woman in the yellow dress. “And you must be Belle.”

“It’s so nice to meet you,” Belle said with a lovely Australian accent, “You’re Regina, right?”

“I am.”

“Rumple’s told me _all_ about you.”

“Bad things, I hope?” Regina asked with a much more relaxed smile.

Belle returned the smile. “The _worst!”_

The two women shared a laugh before Regina invited Belle and Rumple inside.

“You have such an abysmal home, Regina,” Belle commented.

“Why thank you,” said Regina, “I just dusted this morning.”

Belle ran a finger along the wooden bookshelf, and it came away coated in a thick layer of dust and grime. She smiled gleefully. “You certainly did a wonderful job.”

“You’re too kind, Belle.”

“Regina,” Rumple uttered, “is there any way you and I could speak in private?”

“Of course. Is something wrong?”

“I really need to talk to you about something.”

“Alright,” said Regina, “but I wouldn’t want to leave your fiancée having nothing to do.”

As if on cue, Ruby came walking into the foyer and froze when she locked eyes with Belle. Her face grew as red as her cloak.

“Ah, Ruby,” said Regina, “would you mind giving Belle a tour of the house?”

“Sure,” Ruby said sheepishly, “No problem.”

Regina clapped her hands together in delight. “How _dreadful,”_ she said, visibly pleased, “Thank you, Ruby.” She and Rumple disappeared into the study while Ruby showed Belle around the place. “So,” she said, “what did you wish to speak to me about?”

“Word around the graveyard says you’ve developed feelings for your eccentric neighbor,” said Rumple, “Is this true, Regina?”

Regina pursed her lips. “Perhaps,” she said, “Would that be a problem?”

“I suppose not,” said Rumple, “so long as she treats you with the respect and dignity you deserve.”

“She may be strange, but I love her all the same.”

“Do you believe the feeling is mutual?”

“Very much so.”

“I would like to meet this neighbor of yours. What, might I ask, is her name?”

“Emma,” Regina replied, “Emma Swan.”

“Swan,” whispered Rumple, “Your favorite.”

The two of them shared a chuckle.

“I’m happy for you, Rumple. Not everyone can have such a loving relationship.”

“Yes, it is certainly a privilege,” said Rumple, “You see, Belle is the daughter of an inventor from the old country. Her father, Maurice, despises me. He wishes for Belle to marry a man named Gaston, but as you can see, Belle would much rather spend her life with me. Despite my many flaws, she accepts me as I am. I came here to ask a favor of your mother, but knowing her, she will likely decline. That is why I am asking _you,_ Regina. Will you speak with Maurice? Will you put in a good word for me? Please?”

Regina thought about it for a moment. “Just tell me one thing.”

“Of course.”

“Do you love her?”

“With all my blackened heart,” Rumple said without hesitation.

Regina nodded. “Very well. I will speak with him.”

“Thank you, Regina. You have no idea how much this means to me.”

* * *

Seeing how they were having a feast to celebrate Rumple’s engagement to Belle, Regina decided to invite Emma over. As always, the blonde was more than happy to accept. The more time Emma spent at the Mills residence, the more she grew accustomed to the strange goings-on within the abysmal abode.

Regina introduced Emma to Rumple and Belle, and vice-versa. Emma and Belle seemed to be getting along well, chatting back and forth about the town, the décor in the house, and of course, Belle’s engagement to the eerie old man with the cane. Emma tried her best not to dwell on the fact that Rumple was watching her the entire time. Eventually, it did really start to make her feel uncomfortable, and so after enjoying a nice meal of roasted rhinoceros and salamander tongues, she headed home for the night.

A few hours later, she heard a knock at the door, and lo and behold, it was Regina. As usual, the brunette offered a fond smile.

“Hello, Emma.”

“Hi,” Emma said, returning the smile almost instinctively, “You wanna come in?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to impose,” said Regina.

“Hey, I’ve been to your place like a thousand times now. Please, come inside. It’s cold out there.”

“I happen to like the cold.”

“Well, I’m gonna have to insist that you come in. I can make it as cold as you want. That way we can have an excuse to snuggle.”

Regina chuckled. “Very well,” she said, stepping inside, “but you should know by now, Emma, that there is no need for excuses.”

Emma closed the door and invited the brunette to sit with her on the couch. “So,” she said, feeling a bit flustered, “what brings you here at this hour?”

Regina placed her hand atop Emma’s and stared deeply into the blonde’s eyes. “Seeing Rumple and Belle together, it made me realize that I, too, desire someone to wed, and that someone, dear Emma, is you. If you do not reciprocate my feelings, I will not press any further, but regardless, I want you to know that I love you dearly.”

Emma was in shock. “You— You want to marry me?”

“But of course. There is no one I would rather spend the rest of my life with. As peculiar as you are, Emma Swan, my heart burns for you like the fires of Dis.”

Emma couldn’t help but grin. “I’m not sure what that means, exactly, but I’ll assume that’s a good thing.” She brought a hand to cup Regina’s cheek. “I’ll marry you, Regina, if that’s really what you want. I just don’t know how good of a wife I’d be. Nobody’s ever asked me to marry them before.”

“There’s a first time for everything, my dear,” said Regina, “and for what it’s worth, I believe with all my heart and soul that you will make a wonderful bride, though I find it impossible that you will be any greater than you are right now, for you are the embodiment of perfection.”

“Funny,” said Emma, “I was thinking the same thing— just in less words.”

Regina chuckled, and she kissed Emma sweetly. “You know, I also stopped by to ask you if you wished to come to bed with me. I just didn’t want the others to hear us.”

“Come to bed? You mean, have sex?”

“Of course,” said Regina, “but if you would rather just snuggle, as you said, then that will be fine with me.”

“I would love to, um, _come to bed_ with you,” Emma said, blushing profusely.

Regina smiled. “Wonderful. After you, dear Emma.”


	6. Pillow Talk

Emma was lying in her bed next to Regina, covering her nude figure with the warm sheets. Regina was doing the same. They were both smiling. Turning to look at one another, their smiles widened.

“That was nice,” Emma said softly.

Regina planted a light kiss on the blonde’s cheek. “Indeed,” she murmured, “You are incredibly beautiful, Emma. Why, I would even go so far as to say that you could put Venus to shame.”

Emma chuckled. “I don’t know about that, but thank you.”

“You’re very welcome, my dear.” Regina kissed Emma once more, this time on the lips. “And I, for one, am _quite_ certain that Venus holds not a candle to you.”

“Is this the first time you’ve told someone that?”

“Of course,” said Regina. Her smile wavered. “You are the first woman I’ve shared a bed with,” she confessed, “and the only person I have opened my heart to since— oh, never mind.”

Emma was understandably curious, but didn’t want to pry, as she could sense that it would be a touchy subject for Regina. If she pressed, she knew it would ruin the moment. Instead, she turned and brought a hand to the brunette’s waist, having discovered just how much Regina appreciated this particular gesture.

They lied there in silence for a while— neither of them were sure how long, exactly— just staring into one another’s eyes in sheer curiosity and wonder. Eventually, though, Regina broke the silence.

“I love you, Emma Swan.”

Emma’s eyes were alight with wonder. “I still can’t wrap my head around that,” she whispered, “Nobody ever said it to me growing up.” She kissed Regina softly. “But I love you too, Regina Mills.”

“You said before that you were an orphan,” said Regina.

“Yeah.”

“I suppose I should mention that Henry was, too.”

Emma was taken aback by this. “Really? Does he know?”

“Of course. I could never keep something like that from him. He is aware that I didn’t give birth to him, but he knows I am still his mother, for which I will be forever grateful.”

“That’s good,” said Emma, “How old was he when you adopted him?”

“Eight months,” Regina told her, “I couldn’t have children of my own, so I went to an adoption agency in Boston. A very strange place, if I’m being honest. Certainly not fit for a child. I fell in love with him the moment I laid eyes on him, and I knew I would be bringing him home. He’s such a wonderful boy. I don’t know what I would ever do without him.”

Emma offered a sad smile. “And you’re a wonderful mother. I’m sorry about why you had to adopt, but at least you have a child that loves you.” She sighed. “You know, I have a kid somewhere out there.”

“Somewhere? You mean you don’t know?”

Emma shook her head. “No. I put him up for adoption. I was just eighteen— practically still a kid myself. I didn’t know the first thing about raising a child. I keep telling myself I gave him his best chance, but I still feel guilty, even now.”

“Oh, Emma,” murmured Regina, “You mustn’t be so hard on yourself. There is plenty that I have felt— and still feel— guilty about, but I have learned that some things are just meant to be. For the longest time, I blamed myself for being unable to bear children, but then I adopted Henry, and I realized that for every bad thing that happens, there is something good waiting to counteract it.”

“So you think that giving my son up for adoption has led to something positive?”

“Don’t you think so? You met my family and I, did you not?”

“Yeah,” Emma said, visibly in awe, “Yeah, I did.”

“And we fell for one another,” Regina murmured, leaning over to kiss Emma once more on the lips.

“Yeah,” whispered Emma, “We did.”

* * *

The next day, when Emma was over at the Mills’ residence, she was approached by Henry as he wanted to show her the lizard he had found outside.

“Isn’t he pretty?” he asked her.

“Of course,” Emma said enthusiastically, “Have you given him a name?”

“I think I’ll call him _Alastair.”_

“That’s a nice name,” said Emma.

She looked closely at the boy, thinking back to what Regina had said, and for the first time, she noticed that he looked quite a bit like her. The realization of this made her blood run cold. Could it be? He had been adopted in Boston, where Emma had given birth to a boy that would be about Henry’s age.

Surely this wasn’t the case. There were tons of children that had been born and adopted in Boston. How likely was it that out of all of them, her son would end up in a town like this? How likely was it that they would reunite after all this time? Not very, Emma thought— and yet, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was right.

“Are you alright, Emma?” Henry asked, noticeably concerned.

“Huh? Oh. Yeah, I’m fine,” Emma told him.

“Are you sure?”

“Uh huh.”

“Alright,” Henry said skeptically, “Well, I’m going to play in the cemetery with Uncle Jefferson.”

“Okay,” said Emma, “Have fun.”

Henry hurried out into the graveyard, leaving Emma alone in the parlor. After a few minutes, Cora walked in with a knowing look.

“He’s yours, isn’t he?” the woman asked suddenly.

Emma’s eyes grew wide. “What? What are you talking about?”

“I know Regina told you about Henry being adopted.”

“She told you about that?”

“No. She didn’t need to. I just know these things. She came home this morning with a sad look in her eyes. She only gets upset when she discusses the adoption.”

“Well, why would you think he was _mine?”_

Cora took a seat on the couch beside Emma. “He looks just like you. What, you thought no one would notice?”

Emma sighed heavily. “Look, Cora, _I_ don’t even know if he’s mine.”

“Of course you do. I think we both know it, Emma. You see yourself in him. You’re just too afraid to admit it.”

“I don’t want to have this conversation,” Emma said quietly.

“Very well,” Cora relented, “but you’ll have to at some point. Don’t you think Henry should know?”

“I wouldn’t feel comfortable saying anything unless Regina said it was okay. That’s the only way I would say it, but even then, I’d be reluctant.” Emma was quiet for a moment. “Do you think I should say something?”

“That’s entirely up to you, Emma. I won’t say a word.”

“You promise?”

“Of course. We Mills’ never break our promises.”

* * *

That evening, Regina returned to Emma’s house and they curled up in bed together while the rain poured outside.

“Regina?” Emma asked quietly.

“Yes?”

“Um, you know how I said I gave up my son for adoption?”

Regina nodded. “Yes, of course.”

“Well, uh, that was ten years ago, and I— um— I can’t be sure, but I think Henry might be him.”

Regina was silent for a bit, visibly stunned, but unlike Emma had imagined, she did not appear to be angry. Instead, her eyes began to well with tears.

“Oh, Emma,” she breathed, “Do you have any idea what this means?”

“Um, I guess not?”

“It means we have even more reason to get married! If Henry truly is your son, then he can have two loving mothers. How did you know he was yours?”

“I looked at him today— I mean, _really_ looked at him— and I knew he was my son,” said Emma, “but I’d like a DNA test, just to be sure.”

“Even if he isn’t the boy you gave birth to, he will still be your son once we’re wed.”

Emma couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah,” she said, “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”


	7. The Wedding

Emma felt like she couldn’t breathe. It was true. After all these months, the test results had finally come in, and she was, without a doubt, Henry’s biological mother. She raced through the pouring rain to Regina’s place and rang the doorbell that shook the whole house. Victor opened the door with a grin.

“Morning, Emma. Lovely weather we’re having, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess so. Um, is Regina home?”

“She’s _always_ home,” said Victor. He gestured for her to follow him and she did. “Hey, Regina, look who’s here!”

Regina was sipping something from a porcelain cup in the family room and smiled warmly when she saw Emma. She set her cup down and stood up to greet the blonde.

“Good morning, Miss Swan. I was just admiring the storm. Would you care to join me? The weatherman said there would be thunder this afternoon. It’s going to be _marvelous.”_

Emma couldn’t help but smile. “I’d love to,” she said truthfully, “but there’s something I wanted to show you.”

“Oh?”

Victor smiled rather smugly as he backed out of the room. “I’ll leave you two alone.”

Regina smiled. “Thank you, Victor.” She turned back to Emma curiously. “You were saying, dear?”

“I— I got the results of the test back.” Emma pulled out her phone and opened up the Ancestry app. “You see? Henry _is_ my biological son.” Tears of joy streaked her face.

Regina was astonished. She cupped Emma’s cheeks lovingly. “Oh, my darling, that’s wonderful!” They shared a deep kiss, only to break apart when they heard someone walk in. It was Henry.

“Hello,” the boy beamed, holding his new pet snake, “I heard my name and got curious.” He lifted up the serpent. “This is Antonio, by the way.”

Regina stroked the snake’s head. “Hello, Antonio. It’s very nice to meet you.” She patted Henry’s head as well. “Darling, we have something important to tell you.” She looked to Emma. “Would you like to do the honors?”

Emma knelt down in front of Henry and smiled. “Henry,” she whispered, “The Ancestry results finally came in today.” She squeezed his shoulder affectionately. “I’m your mom, kid. Well, your _other_ mom.”

Henry’s eyes grew wide and gleamed with hope. “Really?!”

Emma nodded. “That’s right,” she told him.

“Does that mean you and mother are finally going to get married?”

“Finally going to— wait, did you think we were all along?”

“Of course! Grandma said it was fated to happen!”

Emma stood back up and brought an arm around Regina. “Well, Rumple and Belle have already had their wedding, so I don’t see why not. How exactly do we plan to go about this?”

“We could have the ceremony out in the cemetery,” Regina said with a grin, “That way the whole family could attend! And we’ll have plenty of cyanide to go around!”

“What about platypus punch?” asked Henry.

“Of course, darling. A special treat for the little ones,” Regina told him, “and let’s not forget about porcupine pudding!”

Emma was stunned, to say the least. “Porcupine pudding?” She chuckled. “Let me guess, it’s full of quills.”

“Oh don’t worry, dear, they’re easy to pick out. If you don’t enjoy porcupine pudding, I can always provide cactus soup.”

Emma laughed awkwardly. “I think I’ll just go with the pudding.”

Regina clapped her hands together in delight. “Wonderful! I believe I’m going to wear the same dress I was buried in!”

“That’s nice— wait,_ what?”_

Regina didn’t seem to hear this and kissed Emma on the cheek. “It’s going to be a grand occasion, Miss Swan,” she murmured, “and in the meantime, why don’t we celebrate?” She picked up her cup and downed what was left. “Would you like some cuttlefish tea?”

Emma offered her a genuine smile. “Why yes, Regina. Yes I would.”

“Excellent! I’ll fetch another cup!"

Regina disappeared into the kitchen and Henry hurried off to spread the good news, leaving Emma alone in the family room in silence.

“You’re in this for the long-run, Swan. Buckle up,” she told herself.

* * *

As promised, there was more than enough food at the wedding to go around. Platypus punch, porcupine pudding, cactus soup, and more! The living danced with the dead, and the dead with the undead. The ceremony itself was brief yet would stick in the minds of all who had witnessed it until the end of time.

_Regina had taken the two ring fingers from the cushion provided by Victor’s severed hand and removed the rings from them, slipping one onto Emma’s hand as Emma did the same for her._

_“Uh, whose fingers are those?” asked Emma._

_Regina and the rest of the crowd laughed unanimously. “They belonged to my grandmother and grandfather,” she said, “You’ll meet them soon enough.”_

_Emma just smiled and nodded, but didn’t dare question this._

_Jefferson stood there with his suit and top hat, smiling at the two of them as he read from the black book in his hands._

_“Remember, you two: indulgence instead of abstinence! Turn not the other cheek, but instead, seek vengeance! And most importantly, do not make sexual advances unless you are given the mating signal! So says Anton LaVey!” Jefferson closed the book and it vanished in a plume of fire and black smoke. His smile widened as he regarded the pair. “You may now kiss, and be united not until death, but until long after, until the end of time itself!”_

_Emma and Regina shared a deep kiss, and the audience cheered, roared, howled, snarled, and even shrieked with excitement. The two women stared deep into each other’s eyes with only the utmost love and respect._

_“I love you, Mrs. Swan-Mills,” said Regina._

_And Emma, simultaneously, “I love you, Mrs. Mills-Swan."_

_They both paused when they realized what they’d said, and began to laugh as they embraced one another tightly— so tightly that it caused one of Regina’s ribs to snap._

_“Oh shit, Regina, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”_

_Regina shook her head. “No worries, darling. It’s only a broken rib. Nothing too serious.” She pushed the slight protrusion back into place with a distinct _ **snap! ** _**“**So,” she said, “are you ready to cut the cake?”_

_Emma grinned. “You already know it.”_

_“You’re right,” said Regina, “though I’m not as skilled a clairvoyant as Mother.”_

_They made their way over to the cake, which was enormous— far larger than any cake Emma had ever seen before. Why, it was almost as tall as she was._

_“It is now time for us to cut the cake,” Regina announced. She paused for a moment. “Ahem!” she said, glancing awkwardly at the large pastry, “I said, _it’s time to cut the cake!” _Again, she was silent, and Emma was visibly confused._

_“Regina? What’s happening?”_

_“It’s what _isn’t _happening that I’m concerned with.”_

_Jefferson lifted up the top of the cake like a lid and peered inside as smoke came rolling out. He grimaced a bit and quickly put it back on, laughing uncomfortably._   
_“Looks like she won’t be jumping out of here, after all,” he said with a grimace._

_Regina placed her hands on her hips. “Jefferson, tell me you didn’t put the woman in there _before _you baked it.”_

_Jefferson hesitated before removing his hat. “Alright, folks, looks like we’ll be having a funeral today as well!” He smiled. “All the more reason to celebrate, am I right?”_

_Everyone laughed and cheered in agreement, and the day went off without— well, _almost _without— a hitch._


End file.
